


kenopsia

by dreamonhunters, undefinedelliyit



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, Urban Exploration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamonhunters/pseuds/dreamonhunters, https://archiveofourown.org/users/undefinedelliyit/pseuds/undefinedelliyit
Summary: kenopsianounthe eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that’s usually bustling with people but is now abandoned and quiet—a school hallway in the evening, an unlit office on a weekend, vacant fairgrounds—an emotional afterimage that makes it seem not just empty but hyper-empty, with a total population in the negative, who are so conspicuously absent they glow like neon signs.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	kenopsia

**Author's Note:**

> written with one of my best friends, eth.

To this day, Albert couldn't recall a single feeling better than that of driving at night. With nothing but the dimly lit streets, all thanks to shitty lampposts, and headlights to lead the way, he felt _free_. Window rolled down and a cool wind carding through his darkly ginger hair, dull hooded eyes hardly focusing on the road at all, Albert knew these roads like the back of his hand, and his overly confident exterior promised him a feeling of safety. One would expect his music to be blasting, loud and obnoxious, but that was never the case. He only ever had it loud enough to hear the rhythm over the sound of gusting wind. Albert was respectful in that sense, not wanting to disturb neighborhoods as he drove through them.

Reality almost seemed altered in a 7/11 at 1AM. Bright fluorescents hang overhead and illuminate the blinding white aluminum tiles, brick walls and large windows. The world was inky black outside. Everyone could see in, no one could see out. 

How vulnerable. 

Poetic, dare he say.

Pathetic.

Albert mindlessly picked snacks, or so it seemed. His list was the same every time, the regular cashiers knew him quite well, and if only he was on a predictable schedule they would have it prepared for him each time. Fingers, with black painted nails that had since begun to chip, tactically swiping snack-size bags of chips, a pack of twizzlers, and to top it off two cups of subpar coffee. 

The young boy didn't live by society's concept of time. His life was his own, and by god so would his schedule be. Albert did things as the urges came and went, whether it be at 4PM or 3 in the morning. He enjoyed having that control, knowing that no one could predict him, therefore no one could stop him. 

He might as damn well drag someone else down with him.

That's where Racetrack Higgins came into play, Albert's boyfriend. Admittedly, despite how much he didn't like to, he was very fond of the boy. Race gave him feelings he thought were long dead, and made him feel alive in ways that nothing else in the world could.

Lord only knows what time it was when Albert pulled into Race's driveway, he didn't particularly care. As he got out of the car, he scoped out the area between the grass lawn and asphalt driveway. Albert knelt down, plucking up a few small rocks and closing his fist around them. He sat, legs crossed, on the hood of his car, then skillfully began to pelt Race's window to get his attention. God forbid he just sent a text.

x x x

The very idea of the aforementioned Racetrack Higgins being asleep at any reasonable hour was, in all honesty, completely ludicrous. In a similar manner, the passage of time seemed completely irrelevant to the boy — he appeared to come and go as he pleased. 

Despite the fact it’s currently 1am, one look at Racer could have convinced you otherwise. The boy was sprawled across his bed, as much as a boy of his diminutive stature could, his face illuminated by the bright blue glow from his laptop screen. Various textbooks and notes were strewn around him. He wasn’t using them, not really — he’d lost interest in trying to work out which ones were relevant hours ago. Other than that, the room was dark, save for a string of fairy lights hung haphazardly over his bed. They flickered in the way a light does before the filament breaks, clearly in need of new batteries. 

The crack of rocks hitting glass was what woke him back up from his near-sleep state. Only one thing made that sound — his boyfriend. Rubbing his tired eyes and pushing his glasses back onto his nose, he rolled over, letting the sound continue for a few moments before forcing his body up. 

He opened the window in one fluid movement, climbing onto the windowsill and swinging his legs over the edge to sit. With no regard for anyone who might actually be trying to sleep at this hour, he called out, “Whaddya want, asshole?”

It would be impossible for Race to see it at this hour and from that distance, there was a joyful twinkle in Albert's dark brown eyes, resembling that of a dazzling night sky. His lips twitched into a grin, halting his rock throwing and stuffing the remaining pebbles into his jacket pocket.

"What's it look like?" he called back, eyebrows raised. Albert patted the hood of his car, "Get in loser,"

As implied before, it wasn't uncommon for Albert to do this, show up to Race's home whenever he pleased and whisk the boy away. The only thing was, each time he did so the plan was always different. It was an absolute roulette to try and guess what happened next, and there was nothing out of the realm of possibility.

Albert slid off of the car and just leaned back against it, arms crossing as he stared up at Race with an expectant look. Even though he was sure that his boyfriend would agree, Albert still didn't give him much of a choice. Still, to make the offer more enticing…

"I've got coffee and snacks,"

Race kicked his legs against the stony wall beneath him, a coy smile plastered across his face as the ginger spoke. He wouldn’t be able to see in the darkness, but it was an expression Albert knew well enough to just _assume_ it was there. It wasn’t that he’d say no when Albert first asked, he just liked to wait for him to seal the deal. 

“I’ll think about it,” he yelled back, and they both knew what that meant. Race pushed back off the windowsill, disappearing into the near-darkness of his room for a good five minutes. 

With a mild trace of amusement on his features, Albert watched as Race disappeared. At this point, he could practically count the seconds perfectly until Race appeared again. This was the _only_ part of Albert's life that was at least somewhat in a routine, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

When the blond returned, a faded denim jacket covered his previously bare arms, and a beaten black rucksack had been slung lazily over his right shoulder. The thick reading glasses he’d been wearing before had been discarded. He inclined his head ever so slightly before throwing the bag down. It landed with a dull _thud_ just in front of the taller boy’s feet. Then he swung himself out again, using the window ledge to balance before scaling his way down with practised ease. It was immediately evident Race had done this before on multiple occasions. 

He could just walk out the front door — his parents had been asleep for hours, and would never notice their son’s disappearance — but this was so much more fun.

Albert felt a soft chuckle rise up from his chest at the younger boy's theatrics. And he waited, patient, silent, until Race stood just in front of him. Per the usual, Albert let his gaze rake slowly over the boy, taking in the change of outfit and, well, just checking him out.

Brushing himself off, he picked up the bag by Albert’s feet and smirked. “What a nice hour of the day to come callin’, DaSilva.”

"How kind of you to join me." Albert pushed himself off from leaning against his car, his crossed arms being the only thing stopping them from being flush against each other. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment, "You're in for a real adventure tonight, _Querido_.”

“I better be. You just made me scale a three storey house.” he replied airily, the second Albert had finished speaking. The way he sounded, it was almost as though Albert himself had demanded Race use the most complicated exit possible. 

With that he took a short step back and headed over to the front seat with a stroll, arms finally uncrossing and hands stuffed in his pockets. He flashed a smile over his shoulder to Race. When he got inside and sat in the seat, he reached over and popped over the passenger door. In the center console of the car was two cups of coffee and the aforementioned snacks, as promised. Albert DaSilva was a man of his word if nothing else.

He slipped into Albert’s car, one hand already on the styrofoam cup before he’d even closed the door. “You know, most people would think it’s weird for guys to kidnap their boyfriends in the middle of the night.” he mused aloud, taking a sip of coffee. It'd sat long enough not to scald his tongue, but still send a pleasant warmth down his throat. Race said shit like this a lot, as you’ll probably come to notice. “But I’ll let it slide, ‘cause it’s you.”

"I ain't like most people," Albert reminded in a low murmur, eyelids half closed as he leaned back over the center console and just barely pressed his lips to the corner of Race's. It didn't seem like it, especially to anyone viewing the relationship from the outside, but Albert _deeply_ cared for Race. It had been so long since Albert felt anything, each passing day was just another one of him going through the motions in a robotic, cold, and dead manner, it wasn't until a certain blond came into his life that he began to feel his heart beat again and his skin warm.

Race knew better than to expect big shows of outward affection from Albert. He loved what he did get, though — the subtle brushes of his boyfriend’s fingertips, the glancing kisses, the occasional lingering touches. A small, satisfied hum escaped him at Albert’s kiss. He was happy now. 

Albert leaned back into his seat, settling and buckling in. Normally, Albert didn't care, not that Race even knew that, he was a goddamn stickler for car safety when Race was around. He couldn't take that risk.

Though the jolt of hot coffee was one that Albert knew and loved well, he much preferred it cold.

He _had_ a reputation, after all.

Albert held the cup for a moment, breathing in the comforting scent of convenience store coffee in a poor styrofoam cup. It smelled like home, whatever that even was.

"Buckle up," he instructed, setting the coffee back down without even taking a sip.

Race, meanwhile, reached forward to grab a cigarette carton from his bag, resting one between his teeth. 

There was no lighter in his hand, not now — he’d wait until they set off before he lit up. The weight of it against his lower lip was comfortable, though. Familiar. 

Stretching his arms above his head, coffee almost spilling over, he turned to grin at Albert. “Is it actually law to wear a seatbelt? I don’t think it is, you know. It’s a stupid one. If I’m gonna die in a four car pile up on the freeway, the seatbelt ain’t gonna save me.”

The following action was a small, subtle one. The action was simple, but Race understood the weight behind it. The boy had never really explained his insistence on car safety, but Race knew better than to assume it was pointless. There wasn’t much Albert insisted upon that didn’t have an explanation. He placed his hand on Race's thigh, just by the top of his knee, his thumb grazing comfortingly across the boy's jeans, he gave a soft squeeze, and Albert never once looked over to Race as he did this.

"Racer, you know this car ain't movin' until you do so," his voice was a deep mumble. Albert sighed out through his nose, finally allowing his gaze to flick over to Race, hand withdrawing as he did so, an almost pleading look in his eyes. Maybe one day he would let Race get away with it, maybe one day Albert would be okay enough to let it happen, it was not that day, and deep down he knew he was far from it.

Then, just like that, the moment was gone, and the look in Albert's eyes dissolved.

While Albert waited, he reached for a twizzler, fighting with the package before he managed to wiggle it free. He started the car and set up his music, scrolling through his playlist all the while mumbling to himself over which song to listen to first.

With a soft sigh, he placed the cup down and pulled the seatbelt over himself, a soft _click_ as it connected. “Love ya, Al,” he murmured softly, picking his coffee back up and taking another long sip. He always drank too quickly. 

This time, Albert looked over to Race, a faint ghost of a smile on his features. It was gorgeous, really, how half of Race was illuminated by the pale moonlight, highlighting his features, and the other half was ablaze with the amber street lamp glow. All together, the contrast only helped to bring out his most attractive features, and for only that moment, Albert found himself entranced.

"I love you, too, Racer," he breathed out in a soft promise. It wasn't often that he said it, just enough so that Race never doubted nor forgot how he felt. 

“How far away this time?” 

As he pulled the car out of the driveway, checking over his shoulders far too many times for 1:30AM, Albert considered the distance. It wasn't far enough that he would need a GPS, then again, Albert was very good when it came to remembering routes it took to get to places.

"Not far, twenty minutes at max,"

“Mm, alright,” Race replied distractedly, one hand rummaging through his bag. He paused briefly to smile up at Albert, admiring the way the amber glow of streetlights above made his coppery ginger hair seem to glow with its own fire. 

Eventually he was successful in his mission, pulling out a cheap lighter cased in translucent blue plastic. He had a different one every week, considering how often he lost them. 

Several of them had been lost in Albert’s car, actually, and almost always during these late night adventures. In fact, Albert was starting a collection in his glovebox, a small box filled with shitty, colorful, plastic lighters. It always made him smile whenever he saw it, each one had a different memory attached to it, all fond in their own right. Albert admittedly wasn't the biggest fan of Race's habit, but he always held his tongue, knowing that it wasn't worth damaging their relationship over a few cigarettes. Mostly he hated kissing him after he smoked, but that was something Albert could live with.

Winding down the window, Race lit the cigarette and took a long drag. His arm rested lazily on the side, gently tapping the ash onto the asphalt below. He watched Albert while he smoked, the ghost of a smile on his face. He was stunningly attractive in an unconventional way, and Race lived for it. 

“How long you been sittin’ on this genius plan, then?”

"Oh, only a few hours." Albert shrugged simply, casting Race a smile. He had driven to the place earlier, just to check it out, see if it was worth it. Albert was nothing short of impulsive, so when he found something that he wanted to do, he always did it within the day before the urge dissipated entirely.

“Longer than last time. You didn’t even check where we were goin’.” Race teased, although his tone was playful. They both knew just how much the blond delighted in his boyfriend’s impulsive nature. Albert let the reminder settle, a smile playing at his lips and he drew his lips in between his teeth.

"I really think you'll like this one, _meu amor_ ," Albert teased with a grin.

“I better, _tesoro_. I was almost asleep.” 

They both knew that was a lie. Even if Racer dropped off for a few hours, he wasn’t exactly a heavy sleeper, and never for very long. Albert would’ve gotten his attention either way. 

He dropped the cigarette butt out of the window, rolling it back up. It was cold, after all, and Race had never been a fan of that. 

“You know you’re crazy, right?”

"Yeah, I'm very well aware, darling." There was a specific charm to him when he used those type pet-names, it was the only source of his affection about sixty percent of the time. An alluring look in his eyes, and a genuine, warm smile always came in a group package during these moments. It was a side to Albert that no one else saw, that only Race knew, and he liked it that way.

"Here's the thing, though, you love me, so therefore you're stuck with me," Albert teased, sparing a glance over to Race, that exact look in his eyes and oh-so-familiar smile on his lips.

“Well, duh. You think I let every guy I meet whisk me off my feet at 1am?” he teased, a warmth spreading in his chest at the pet-name. There was nothing Race adored more, really. 

The look on Albert’s face was priceless. He loved the way his eyes glinted in the passing streetlights, the genuineness etched across him. Moments like these reminded Race exactly why he fell in love with Al. 

“‘Course I love ya. There ain’t nobody else I could love.”

As should be expected, or rather not expected, with Albert, the next thing he did was unpredictable. He pulled the car over, making sure he wasn't about to block a driveway or something, and put it in park. He leaned over to Race, cupping his cheek and pressing their lips together.

That was the thing about Albert, he hardly could bring himself to say that he loved Race all the time (and honestly, he constantly beat himself up about it) but when he felt the need to kiss him, Albert would make sure it would happen. He _needed_ Race to know how much he loved him, how much he cared, how he wanted to wake up one day next to him and every day after that, how he wanted to protect Race from every evil in the world. If he couldn't express that with his words, so be it, he would use his lips in other ways.

Race was pretty proud of his perception. He knew exactly what Albert meant without him even saying it. And when Albert kissed him, Race knew exactly what was going unspoken. 

It had been _years_ since Race last committed to any kind of relationship, choosing to spend most of the time with various one night stands. Albert was an exception. He didn’t need anybody else. This was the man he could see himself with for the rest of his life, whatever that meant. He had a funny philosophy about life and death.

Their kisses were passionate, because there were so many unspoken words hidden in their depths. When Race pulled away, breathless, he could nothing but smile at his boyfriend, lips slightly swollen from the force of the act. For once, he didn’t have anything to say. He could bask in his lover’s presence silently, and be perfectly contented the entire time.

Albert swiped his thumb lovingly across Race's cheek as they pulled apart, his eyes fluttering open and a soft sigh slipping past his lips, which quirked upright into a small smile. For a moment, their foreheads rested together, as if every thought of endearment that Albert had would be telepathically read by Race.

While their relationship was far from convincing, it worked. Hell, it _thrived_. Albert couldn’t genuinely remember the two ever having a truly devastating fight. It was those times when Albert knew that he had to use his words to talk about the issue before it became too huge, despite how much it scared him to.

Just as fast as the moment began, it ended. Albert sat back once again, put the car in drive, and tore away from the curb.

Race let his back hit the seat again, eyes closed and a look of tranquility on his face. Somebody like Albert...that was someone he’d follow to the ends of the Earth. He was intriguing, mysterious, enigmatic — and that only served to make him even _more_ alluring. But Race clung to him for one particular reason more than any other. 

He made Racer feel alive. 

Nobody else could do that. Their midnight adventures thrilled him in a way party drugs and drink never had. Albert’s touch was electric; there was nobody in this world he could compare. Everything he did made Race buzz with some kind of energy he couldn’t explain, and he _lived_ for it. 

“So,” he finally spoke, eyes opening properly. “How likely am I to get killed on this fine evening?”

"0%." Albert's reply was instant, and the exact damn same as every other time Race had ever asked him the question. He would never bring Race into a situation that would be dangerous, or in some cases fatal, and if it ever were to become one of those instances after the fact, Albert would do everything in his power to keep Race safe. 

It was the answer he expected, because it was the same every time. Albert would never put him in any kind of immediate danger — hell, the boy did enough to keep him out of trouble as it is. That was another thing Race loved about him. But he loved the theatrics of the question, so he asked it every single time.

Albert turned down onto a dirt and gravel road, wincing at how the car was initially jostled from the transition of smooth asphalt to rocky and uneven.

"We're almost there," he promised, even though Race hadn't asked. Albert knew he was about to. What better time to prompt the question than when pulling onto an ominous dirt road?

As they turned off onto that unmarked dirt road, Race couldn’t help his lips curling into a smirk, the anticipation already building in his chest. This whole process was so overdramatic, and that suited Race just fine. He’d be damned if he ever wanted anything (or anyone) else in his life. 

Instead, he stretched over, rustling the flimsy plastic packet of twizzlers for a few moments before returning with several clutched in his hands. One was twisted around in his other hand for a few moments while we spoke. 

“Well this is a little off the beaten track, huh?” he remarked. “Way to keep a guy in suspense, Albie.”

Albert didn't answer right away, too busy focused on making sure he didn't just drive past the place the first time considering how dark it was and how the building had no working lights.

It wasn't until the car slowed to a stop, and Albert put it in park, that he responded.

"This place was a goddamn miracle to find. Trust me, you'll love it," he assured as he turned off the car. Albert popped open the door and got out, doing a half assed jog over to the other side so he could open Race's for him. 

The building wasn't visible just yet. Luckily, Albert had brought flashlights and just a few other fun surprises. 

His eyes strained in the dark, trying to make out whatever Albert was so excited about. The vague silhouette of _something_ loomed in the near distance, although it was far too dark to make out what exactly it was. “You got me intrigued, _tesoro_ ,” he murmured. 

Race practically jumped out of the car, shouldering the rucksack. There was a chill in the air, and he shivered as his body tried to adjust. “Hope you brought more food. I was tryna write this stupid fuckin’ essay all night. Need energy,” he mumbled, watching Albert closely.

Just about the moment Race closed his door, Albert pinned him against it, hands at his hips and lips hovering over Race's with about an inch to spare. Except he didn't close the distance, not yet, Albert just wanted to be close.

Race could only as Albert pinned him there. Race’s whole expression screamed _challenge_. It was a hobby of his — pushing Albert as far as possible until the boy finally snapped. He didn’t close the gap, though, preferring to just enjoy the sensation of Albert’s breath against his skin. 

He loved the little games they played like that, and it truly showed. Even with Race trying to make him snap, it was something that used to annoy him (and really that was how it started), but now he enjoyed it in a sense, a constant reminder of the fact that they loved each other and that Race was always willing to wait. He also found it entertaining to keep Race waiting in suspense like that, sometimes trying to see if he would snap first.

Albert noticed the chill, he had to agree it was a little cold.

"I've got a hoodie in my trunk," he murmured in a whisper, then peeled himself away from Race and went over to it. 

“Good. Don’t wanna freeze to death,” Race murmured, moments before Albert pulled away. He didn’t bother to move, instead watching his boyfriend work. 

Albert tugged open his trunk, it emitted a cringe worthy squeak, and pulled out his own bag. He always kept a supply bag in his trunk that he often refilled with different things depending on what they would need on any specific night. The things like flashlights, water, and snacks were always there in the front pocket of the bag, but the back, or rather _main_ , pocket was larger, and it was always a gamble as to what was in it. He slammed the small door shut, promptly locking his car afterwards. Albert held out the sweatshirt for Race as he plopped his bag on the floor. He knelt next to it and unzipped the pockets.

That was a bag Race recognised well — he left the planning to Albert, really. His own bag currently contained a half-empty cigarette carton, a selection of colourful lighters, a frayed phone charger and a pair of half-broken earphones. Travelling light, he called it. 

After a little while longer than was strictly necessary, he took the sweatshirt from Albert and pulled it over his head, tossing his own jacket into the aforementioned rucksack. It was thin and worn and didn’t really hold up much against the cool breeze. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, one eyebrow raised. “Hope you replaced the batteries in my flashlight. I ain’t havin’ it break on me again.”

"I've got it all under control," Albert assured in a semi-distracted murmur. He fished around for the flashlights, metallic clinking sounds ensuing. Albert pulled out the flashlights, flicking each on, inspecting them, then turned them off and set it down.

He watched Albert for a few moments before fishing out his phone, rubbing his sleeve over the cracked display. 1:55am. No messages. A reminder that he should’ve backed up the device four months ago, and still didn’t have the storage to do so. The bright light illuminated his face for a few moments, before he clicked it back off again and slipped it into the back pocket of his jeans. 

When Albert stood up again, he handed a flashlight over to Race, a playful smile tugging at his lips.  
"You look very cozy, amor," he pointed out with a soft laugh.

Albert’s sweatshirt was a little big on him, given this difference in height, but it was comfortable. All of Albert’s clothing was. He wrapped the sleeves over his hands, a small smile flickering across his face. It had the familiar scent of _Albert_ seemingly attached to it, and that felt like home.

When the taller boy stood, he smiled and took the flashlight. The coldness of the black metal was just tangible through the fabric of his sleeve. “I am.” he answered, taking a few steps forward to wrap his arms around Albert’s waist. “Thanks for being freakishly tall.”

Having Race be so close to him was something that Albert always yearned for, whether secret or not, he was almost sure that Race had figured out that fact. He wasted no time winding his arms around the younger boy's shoulders and held him close. Albert pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of Race's head.

"I'm average height, querido," he reminded with a light chuckle. Albert was content to just stand there the entire night if they could. In theory, they _definitely_ could, but they had business to get to, unfortunately.

His thumb swiped in a gentle rhythm over Race's shoulder. This is just about as soft as he got, except for the rare few occasions when he became even softer.

Race hummed quietly, head resting against Albert’s chest. He could hear the steady thump of the boy’s heartbeat, and that was a sound that relaxed him infinitely. These were moments he lived for — so rare and fleeting, and yet some of the most precious memories he had. Albert had never been outwardly affectionate, but when they were alone? That was a slightly different story. 

“Love you,” Race mumbled, voice slightly muffled against his boyfriend’s chest. And those words were the truth. Never before had he meant them so much. Albert was the world to Racer, whether he knew it or not. He’d do anything for that boy.

"Te amo." Albert peeled back enough to be able to look down at Race, his finger hooking under the boy's chin and guided his gaze upwards. Albert was smiling, fondly and warm. It was now that he closed the distance between them, while the kiss was passionate, it was also light and gentle; soft, just for this moment.

Albert couldn't remember when he fell in love with Race, maybe he smiled in a certain way at some point, or maybe he laughed a little too hard at one of Albert's dumb jokes. He didn't know, all he knew was that one day when he looked at Race everything changed in an instant. Albert had never felt such a strong pull before, but he knew right then that he needed to be with Race, to share their lives, he had too. Each day he spent just staying friends was like a stab to his heart until one day he couldn't take it anymore, he swallowed his fear and told Race how he had felt. The rest was history.

Albert’s confession had changed Race’s world in every positive way. He was something of a loose cannon before Albert confessed his feelings, really. He was lost, and the boy became like a grounding force for him. Albert kept him on track, for the most part, even with his unpredictable nature. Less fights and _way_ less reckless nights at some random guy’s house party he decided to crash. He didn’t control Race, not in the slightest. He just found a way to reign in the boy’s less desirable traits, calming the storm of Race’s internal chaos. 

His lips quirked upwards against Albert’s. It was a short kiss, but it was sweet and light. Race pulled away after the briefest moment, smile still firmly fixed on his face. “So what’s the big plan, _dolcezza_?”

To say he was slightly saddened by how fast the kiss ended wouldn't be a lie. Race had a point though, there was a big plan and time was...well, irrelevant. Albert still pressed a lingering kiss to Race's cheek before he pulled himself away.

Albert scooped his bag up from off of the ground and slung it over his shoulder, fumbling to get his arm through the other strap for a moment.

All it took was Albert to flick on his flashlight to reveal what they had come for.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @narvaeztrash for more writing _!_


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